


Prisoner of War

by starspangledmanwithaplan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst without a happy ending, F/M, Heavy Angst, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 02:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledmanwithaplan/pseuds/starspangledmanwithaplan
Summary: After spending more than two months as a prisoner on The Raft, Steve comes to your rescue, but it’s not the kind of rescue you’d dreamed of.





	Prisoner of War

Being an Avenger meant long nights and endless days that blurred together, countless missions and high body counts that could have been prevented. So, when The Accords were signed, you knew your life was going to be different. Little did you know just how much it would change.

With Steve going off-script, you were held prisoner on The Raft, a giant floating prison in the middle of the goddamn ocean. Thankfully, you weren’t alone. Wanda and Clint were housed on to your left, Sam and Scott resided on your right. You were smack in the middle of one of the most dysfunctional ‘families’ you’d had the privilege of knowing.

General Ross would come into the ward and stroll leisurely past each cell, not saying a word to the prisoners, a scowl on his brow, hands clasped behind his back. He’d walk the circumference of the room for an hour, stand directly in front of your cell, and glare at you, and every time you’d shake your head and scoff. Day after day, for almost two months, Ross kept it up, and then one day, Thaddeus actually spoke to you.

“One day, Miss Y/L/N,” he murmured, stepping close to your cell, close enough that his breath fogged the shatter-and-supernatural-power-resistant glass, “you’ll tell me where he is.”

A lopsided smirk tugged at your lips as you leveled him with a cold glare. “Hate to disappoint you, Ross, but that ain’t gonna happen.”

Clint was chuckling to your left. “You really think that she’s going to break? Christ, man, you have no idea what… who you’re dealin’ with.”

“She’s a traitor, that’s  _what_  she is,” Ross snarled. “A goddamn menace, just like you, just like the lot of you.”

“No wonder your daughter hates you,” Clint said, knowing exactly how dear old daddy would react.

Thaddeus slapped his hand against the glass and growled, “You leave Betty out of this!”

It was your turn to have a little fun. “What are you gonna do, Thaddeus, ground us?” You absolutely refused to give the man any formal greeting, he was a disgrace to his rank, he was a disgrace to this country.  

Sam started laughing, the rich tone of it soothed the itch in the back of your mind. You were desperate to unleash your power, to rid the man of his flesh, strip by strip. With an inward shrug, you wondered when you got so violent. You had a temper, sure, but the urge to lash out and cause physical harm to someone that was pissing you off was new.

General Ross took in a deep and shuddering breath, readjusted his suit jacket, and stared at you for a solid thirty seconds before giving an order. “Solitary confinement, thirty days.”

It was the fifteenth day with no lights, no sound, no human contact, that you knew something was… off. Not with you so much, though you were exhausted and your stomach had been rolling, but that was because you had been stuck in the middle of the ocean for over two months. No one was meant to handle that well. It was atmosphere within the prison that shifted, and it danced along your skin like an electric spark.

The lights were flicked on, blinding the group, pulling irritated groans from each member of the dismantled Avengers. With your hands on the glass, you stood on shaking legs, and tried to get your eyes to focus on the person that emerged from the shadows.

“Ste- Steve?” you gasped, unwilling to believe that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you once again.

He stood there, smirking at you. “Yeah, doll, it’s me.” The cell doors opened a second later, and you lunged into his arms, sobbing into the crook of his neck, feeling only slightly embarrassed at how you were handling the situation.

Steve pressed kisses to your wet face and lips before shaking his head. “We don’t have much time.” Natasha was removing the shackles from Wanda, helping the catatonic woman out of the room and onto the quinjet that was undoubtedly waiting for everyone.

“Where are we going?” you rasped, your stomach rolling as the raft pitched.

“I’m taking Bucky someplace safe,” he assured you, his eyes flicking over your face as if memorizing your features.

You shook your head and gripped onto the lapels of his jacket. “Where are  _we_  going, Steve?” you asked again, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to answer you.

Steve pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before calling Clint and Steve over. “I want you to go with them,” he started, but you weren’t having it.

“No,” you argued loudly. “I’m going with you. I’ll be safe with you.” Besides, there was something very important you needed to tell him, something nobody else knew.

Clint was next to you, pulling you away from Steve at the super soldier’s insistence. “It’s for the best, Y/N,” Clint assured you.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you snarled, your powers flaring up, your hands glowing dark blue. Steve sniffled loudly as he signaled to someone behind you, as the device Wanda had been wearing around her neck was slapped onto yours. Scott was apologizing as he came out from behind you.

“What’d you do?” you demanded to know, your power fizzling out quickly.

“What I had to do to save you,” Steve answered. He kissed you, a firm press of his lips against yours, and then he was gone, the echo of a whispered, “I love you,” running rampant through your mind.

You were kicking and screaming, doing everything in your physical power to get away from Scott and Clint, but without your powers, you were weak, a literal damsel in distress, and you fucking hated it.

“I have to tell him, Clint,” you begged, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, desperation clinging to your voice.

Clint’s lips were pulled into a tight line as he held you against him, your arms crossed over your chest, Scott’s hands holding yours against your sides. “Tell him what, Y/N?”

You figured it out the week prior, when you couldn’t hold down any food or water, when the slightest motion set off your gag reflex. Your mind was a flurry of calculations and angry words of denial, but when Steve’s face came into focus, you knew you couldn’t deny it any longer.

“I have to tell him that I’m pregnant.”


End file.
